


New Traditions

by Songspinner



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Dancing, F/M, Goddess Tower (Fire Emblem)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:07:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24605905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Songspinner/pseuds/Songspinner
Summary: Your classic Goddess Tower visit on the night of the ball, featuring soft Hilclaude.
Relationships: Hilda Valentine Goneril/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22
Collections: Hilclaude Week 2020





	New Traditions

**Author's Note:**

> Hilclaude Week 2020 Day 2: Dancing/Modern AU
> 
> This was written in collaboration with a friend who writes an amazing Hilda to my Claude (but she isn't on twitter or ao3 so I can't tag her). I hope you enjoy!

If someone told Claude a year ago that he'd actually be looking forward to attending a fancy ball hosted by the Church of Seiros, he would have laughed.

Yet here he is, feeling excited and nervous as he fiddles with his hair in the mirror to make sure it looks _perfect_ , wondering when he became someone who fiddled with his hair nervously in front of a mirror. The answer is obviously "the day he met Hilda," but that's a little scary to think about, so he doesn't. Instead, he focuses on the easy stuff--the little details in his plan, making sure the flowers he gathered from the greenhouse are ready, de-cluttering his room as much as he feasibly can just in case she wants to...you know...hang out after the ball is over. Just hang out. Sure.

And for a while, things go smoothly. Hilda looks stunning (of course) and somehow both takes charge of the situation and makes it look like he's calling all the shots (of course) as they maneuver their way onto the dance floor. Claude has been drilling these stuffy Fodlan dances into his head all week, refreshing his memory from the months he spent doing this with an instructor at his grandfather's behest, hoping he can fake it well enough to get through a night of all eyes being on him (as usual). Little by little, though, with Hilda laughing and twirling in his arms, her bright smile and sparkling eyes drawing him in, he forgets to be cautious. He forgets those eyes are there. He forgets that he doesn't have the luxury of being just a kid at a dance with the girl he likes, or of really letting go and having fun. And Hilda lets him stray from the rigid rules of noble ballroom etiquette, grinning wide as he starts to improvise.

So inevitably, as some part of him deep down knew it would, the little bubble he constructed for himself in which the only two people who mattered were him and Hilda bursts. It happens a few dances in--the music is still lively, a vigorous waltz, and the number of couples on the dance floor increases with every passing minute. Soon, they're surrounded by a host of whirling people performing a structured courtly dance Claude's never seen before...which happens to involve moving around not just each other, but around other couples in a complex pattern he can't follow. All those nerves come back to him in a rush, though he laughs it off when he fumbles the steps for the fourth time. By the fifth, he tells Hilda he needs a short break and flees the dance floor.

He shows no signs of hearing the comments several of the nobles make as he passes by: _"I thought he was the heir to House Riegan? He doesn't seem much like a noble to me." "That dancing is way out of line, didn't anyone ever teach that guy any etiquette?" "What do you expect, he just shows up out of the blue claiming to be Duke Riegan's grandson? I bet he's not even a noble at all."_ But the last straw comes when Lorenz doesn't bother to be circumspect about telling him that he's acting like an _'uncivilized oaf'_ and _'perhaps should not have attended at all if he was going to represent the Golden Deer in this shameful manner.'_ Claude responds with his usual snark, but after Lorenz walks away he just...wanders out of the reception hall altogether, aimlessly making his way outside and around the grounds until he finds himself staring up at the forbidding heights of the Goddess Tower. ...it's off-limits, right? Which means, theoretically, there shouldn't be anyone in there. He's sure if he just takes a little time to himself, he'll be fine with going back in there again.

Hilda is much more perceptive than she lets on, which is true about a lot of aspects of her personality. She can't very well get other people to do her dirty work for her if she can't tell exactly how to play them like a fiddle. The trouble with Claude, as she's said before and will surely say again, is that he can be difficult to read. Maybe this new facet of their relationship will wear down those walls eventually, but in its current fledgling state, it's sort of doing the opposite. She was so happy to be here with him that she's grown oblivious to the outside world, as becomes crystal clear when he steps away and leaves her to her own devices. Other voices filter back in, some friendly, some scathing, and her surroundings come back into focus with startling clarity. It's not all bad - she is a social butterfly, after all, and this is still her domain, for better or worse - and yet.

The longer Claude's absence stretches on, the more she worries something might be amiss. What to do, what to do... The idea hits her like divine providence. The Goddess Tower! She's planning to meet a few friends there later anyway for a bit of silly gossip; why not get there early? For all she knows, her guest of honor could already be there. And if not, the tower makes for an excellent vantage point. Enough to see where her date has scampered off to, perhaps? One can only hope. She slips out of the ballroom mostly unseen (being so short has its benefits!) and across the campus, until she finally ascends the forbidden staircase with only a _bit_ of apprehension (ghosts aren't real, obviously, despite what the recent rumors say). Fortunately, what awaits her there is neither solitude nor a ghost, but... "Claude?" She cautiously calls out to him, walking with slow, measured footsteps. Startling someone in a place that's supposedly haunted seems like a bad move--especially Claude, who tends to get a little jumpy when he's alone--so she's trying her best to not take him by surprise. "What are you doing here?"

What Claude is doing here is standing by the balcony, looking out at the starry sky. He should have known he couldn't keep this haven to himself for long, what with a big party going on; he personally knows at _least_ three wallflowers in attendance. Though from the look on Hilda's face, he's been here longer than he thought. He turns, smiling. With his mouth, anyway. "Oh, hey, Hilda. I guess I needed a bit more of a break than I expected. It was nice and quiet up here, so..." He shrugs. "What are _you_ doing here? I didn't think you of all people would need a time out from the social scene."

Something about this feels off to Hilda, but she's not yet close enough to tell why. She resolves to fix that and goes to join him. "Long story. Mostly looking for you, though. You've been sorely missed." _By me, specifically,_ she thinks, hoping her actions convey the meaning well enough.

 _She left the party behind to look for me?_ "Ah, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to abandon you to the wild whims of the merciless ballroom crowd. ;)" Then, bemused, "I'm guessing the 'long story' has something to do with all that whispering you were doing with Marianne yesterday in class?"

"Sure does. Marianne, Annette, and a whole lot of passed notes. I'll tell you all about it later." She takes one of Claude's hands into both of hers and look at him closely, eyes searching for any kind of crack in the mask. "Do you want me to leave? I can give you more alone time, if you need it. I know these events can be a bit... Much. For some people."

Claude blinks at her gesture, not having expected it, for...whatever reason. He isn't sure why. Hilda's always looking out for other people, even when she tries to pretend she's being selfish. "No, not at all. Thanks for coming to find me." He shakes his head. "It's not the event itself, really. I love dancing, and music and food...being here with you. I just don't exactly fit in with all these nobles and their traditions. Who knew just going to a party would be like taking a test?" His tone is relatively light, but paying attention as closely as she is, she can probably tell the tone doesn't match the troubled look in his eyes.

 _So there's something more to this, after all._ Hilda should have known. She doesn't know much about Claude's past, or even his future, for that matter - not beyond his plans to lead the Alliance. But for him to be so guarded at all times... You don't build walls unless you truly need the protection. It makes her heart hurt, to see him like this. At the same time, she's grateful to have been let close enough to see the hurt at all. She doesn't want to make him regret it. It's a small opening, but she'll take it. "Hey. Hey. Look at me." She lets go of his hands to place hers on both sides of his face, resting her forehead against his. "There's a reason I'm not here with any of those other nobles. I'm here with _you_. They can keep their old, stuffy traditions. We'll make new ones. Better ones. Where the only tests involved will be for Lysithea, because she loves those things too much for me to have the heart to take them away from her. Okay?"

 _'We'll make new ones._ ' Claude thinks back to the story his mother told him, about her decision to elope to Almyra and damn the consequences. He can almost imagine getting on a wyvern with Hilda and just...flying away from here, leaving Fódlan and Almyra both behind to see the world. It's obviously not _actually_ an option, but the "we" in her words dulls the sting of the isolation he felt back on the dance floor, that sudden but familiar feeling of every eye in the room on him, making it crystal clear that he doesn't belong.

He chuckles at the bit about Lysithea, looking into Hilda's eyes as he rests both hands on her hips. "Make our own, huh? I guess we _are_ standing in the Goddess Tower. She's supposed to be looking down on us and listening to our prayers here, right?" He searches Hilda's eyes, finding compassion and concern there. On the surface, she seems like a typical, spoiled noble girl; but he knows better. He can see the strong and boundless heart she hides, the way she doesn't compromise on the things that really matter. And she's never once made him feel like an outsider. She's a large part of why the Golden Deer feel like family to him--something he never expected to find when he made the long journey to Fódlan.

"That’s how the legend goes, more or less. I’ve never heard two people tell it quite the same way. A prayer, a vow, a wish… I guess that’s what makes it so special. Everyone makes it their own. Fitting, don’t you think?"

"Everyone makes it their own...I like that. I'm not usually much for believing in legends, but a legend like _that_ I can get behind." Claude's eyes warm. "So here's my wish: that you and I will make better traditions, together. Someday."

Hilda can almost feel herself slipping this time, getting swept up in the moment and forgetting about all of her misgivings when it comes to this kind of thing. Forgetting that she is inevitably going to disappoint him, that she is cautious with making promises like this for a reason. She places stock in legends such as these, and this is a dangerous game she’s playing, agreeing to these terms like it’s an easy thing. Perhaps that belief is what pushes her over the edge, in the end. She might not believe in herself just yet, but she believes in the power of the Goddess. And she believes in _Claude_. Right now, those are enough to keep her grounded. They let her enjoy this moment for what it is. Vulnerable, open, intimate. A thing to be cherished and looked back upon fondly.

She drags her hands down and forward to drape them loosely behind Claude’s neck, biting back a suggestive smile as an idea dawns on her. "You know… I heard that if you _really_ want your wish to come true, you’re supposed to seal it with a kiss." Which is a bald-faced lie that she's making up on the spot, of course. It sounds like something _someone_ has said at one point, though. Surely the Goddess will forgive her this transgression for the sake of romance.

Claude moves his hands too, stepping a little closer to wrap his arms around her waist. He's not entirely sure whether her addendum is an actual part of the legend or something she invented just now, but either way, a smile spreads slowly across his face. "Is that so? Well, I've told you my wish. What do _you_ wish for?"

 _He’s going to make me work for this, isn’t he? Of course he is. He’s lucky he’s so cute._ She tugs him closer, too, looking up at him like her answer is the most obvious thing in the world. "For _your_ wish to come true, duh. Now are you going to kiss me or not?"

"With a wish like that, how can I refuse?" he murmurs, leaning down to press a slow, gentle kiss to her lips. He wants to savor this moment, to make it last forever, with Hilda in his arms under the moonlight, promising to help him build a better world...it's enough to make him believe in legends, perhaps. Just this once.

Hilda closes her eyes and melts into him, tangling a hand in the back of his hair, the other lightly curling around his neck. Not quite _grasping_ it, though the irony will not be lost on her when she thinks back on this moment in the future. She’s content to let him set the pace, wanting to linger in the moment just as much as he does.

Claude basks in her kiss--her soft lips, the feel of her fingers in his hair, the warmth of her closeness, the heady scent of her perfume. And more, the feeling that from now on, whatever they do, they'll do it together, and nothing will be able to stop them. The giddiness he felt the day she accepted his invitation to the ball returns in full force.

When they finally break apart, Hilda does so with a contented sigh. She feels lighter than air, like she can do anything. _Be_ anything. Is this the magic of the tower taking effect, she wonders, or a different kind of magic that can only come from such a special first kiss? Maybe it’s a little of both. Wouldn’t that be something? "… Worth the wait?" she murmurs in a hushed voice, holding on to him tightly.

A bit of light laughter escapes Claude. "Absolutely," he breathes, and in a sudden rush of elation he tightens his grip around her and lifts her up into his arms, spinning her around a few times with a wide grin.

Her own surprised peal of laughter echoes around the tower as she’s lifted without warning and spun once, twice, thrice. She feels dizzy, not from the spinning itself but from the head rush of it all, the emotions barreling through her body that start at her heart and bounce around her ribcage until they manage to escape and envelop every part of her.

Soon he sets her back down and gently caresses her cheek with one hand. "And if the Goddess won't grant our wishes, we'll just have to chase them ourselves."

"Chase? That sounds like a _lot_ of work. You might have to carry me, sometimes. Buuut..." She leans into his touch, placing her hand atop his. "I can carry you sometimes, too. So it all works out, in the end."

Claude can't stop grinning like a madman, feeling like something inside him might burst. Or has already...he blinks once, twice, stunned into silence for a moment by the realization that Hilda's face is getting a little blurry. He clears his throat instead of responding, turning to look out at the view for a moment so he can blink back the offending mist and regain his composure. As he does, he hears the strains of a slow, sentimental song drift in from the distant ballroom. He latches onto the distraction like a pro. "Hey, do you hear that? Sounds like things are starting to get a little romantic down there. ;)" He pulls his hand away from her face to wrap his arms around her waist again in what is decidedly _not_ how you're supposed to slow-dance at a courtly function. "May I have this dance, my lady?" He begins to sway to the music, holding her close.

Those misty eyes do not escape Hilda's notice. She opens her mouth to say something but he cuts her off at the pass, changing the subject without giving her room to comment. She can hardly hold it against him--he's already given her so much tonight, it would be selfish to ask for more. And the music softly filtering in, the view from the tower, the privacy afforded by their location... It _is_ all very romantic. He can have this one. "You may, indeed." She arranges her arms just so behind Claude's back, hands splayed and resting on his jacket, and lays her head on his shoulder as they move back and forth at a leisurely pace. "It's almost a shame no one can see us doing this. I'd love to see the look on Lorenz' face right about now. That said... I think having you all to myself up here makes up for that and then some."

Claude chuckles, resting his cheek on top of her head and gazing out at the stars more purposefully this time. "Much as I love to watch Lorenz sputter himself speechless over pointless formalities, I like it better this way, too." _Say, Hilda...how do you feel about taking a trip past Fódlan's Throat...?_ But no, obviously that's not happening. If her brother was ready to murder him before over something as small as asking her out... So he resolves to just enjoy this time alone with her, let himself live in this moment instead of worrying about future ones, for once. He's never felt so content in all his life. And even if it doesn't last...at least the memory will.


End file.
